


liars and killers

by drivingnotwashing



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (not about the sex but about the angel), Angst, Established Relationship, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Sam Winchester, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Season/Series 09, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:46:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27214384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drivingnotwashing/pseuds/drivingnotwashing
Summary: Sam wakes up, opens his eyes to stare at his brother’s bloodied face and he knows, he feels it inside him like a weight on his spine, making him curl his back and slouch his shoulders with fear and loathing. He's carried Lucifer long enough to recognise this type of angelic electricity. He wakes up with an angel deep inside his body and he waits for Dean to tell him what he's done.It never comes.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 94





	liars and killers

**Author's Note:**

> this was written in less than an hour while editing the newest chapter of motel bibles, it is not very good, im deeply sorry, it just had to get out of me.
> 
> as always: if you don't like the ship, the tags, the plot, please don't read!
> 
> -dnw

Sam wakes up, opens his eyes to stare at his brother’s bloodied face and he _knows_ , he feels it inside him like a weight on his spine, making him curl his back and slouch his shoulders with fear and loathing. He recognises the spark of power inside of him easily, he’s carried Lucifer long enough to recognise this type of angelic electricity. He waits for Dean to tell him, to confess and Sam will snap, will probably scream and try to tear his face off when he feels less like he’s gonna keel over but he will forgive when Dean tells him, he will. He waits and he lets Dean drag him out of the hospital, he even lets his brother push him around in a wheelchair because he’s sure Dean had his reasons, even if they’re stupid and respect none of Sam’s wishes, he knows that Dean wouldn’t do this to hurt him. They love each other in the most damaged way, but it is _still_ love.

Dean drives them back to the bunker, babbling about the food he’ll cook, the movies they can watch while Sam is recovering and it’s almost enough for Sam to forget, the Impala’s leather scent and his brother’s heat next to him is almost enough, just a few shots away from perfect for Sam to dismiss the pressure in his chest. It’s a little scary, how happy Dean makes him that he’d forget the angel carving itself inside his bones. 

He waits during dinner, he figures Dean will tell him when he’s done eating what his big brother considers is a sane amount of soup and crackers. Except it doesn’t come, Sam accepts buttered toasts and two other bowls of chicken broth because if Dean was ready to inject a celestial being in his comatose body, he has to take better care of himself while he’s conscious, there’s no telling what Dean will force into him if he thinks Sam isn’t doing the bare minimum, but _it. doesn’t. come._

He spends the first two days lying in wait, literally, he lets Dean pamper him and he stays immobile on his bed, only shifting around when his brother joins him. They watch TV and Dean laughs too loudly at sitcoms, Sam reads but the words on the pages blur, he wonders if he would be able to read a full book if it was written in Enochian. 

A week in, Dean hasn’t said anything and Sam is so fucking tired of sleeping, if he has to rest one more second he’s going to commit fratricide and he doesn’t know if he’s entirely joking when he tells Dean so. They leave in the hour, there’s a case somewhere in Charlottesville which means days and days of driving, days of filling the silence because even Dean could grow tired of Led Zeppelin on repeat and Sam’s sure he will cave then, that between pleasantries and clipped words exchanged about the case, Dean is going to say, _hey, Sam, by the way._

They’re out of Kansas before Dean says anything and when they stop for the night, Sam lets himself forget about the drumming behind his sternum and the fire in his veins. He wants to lie down and let his brother caress his cheek without wanting to bite off his lying tongue.

The hunt in Charlottesville happens and Sam doesn’t try to make it easy, he doesn’t comfort Dean when his brother has to lift the body of the young boy they couldn’t save, he doesn’t offer tenderness to the grieving parents, he burns the body of the child-eating monster and doesn’t gag when he smells burned flesh and iron, he’s had centuries to get used to that smell, it is more familiar than Dean’s cologne.

“What’s up with you?” His brother asks while they’re eating at a road dinner, one of those places where Sam wouldn’t even dare to order a salad because he would either get poisoned or humiliated on the spot. He’s eating fried chicken and mashed potatoes, he let Dean steal his biscuits ten minutes ago and he doesn’t even really miss the gravy, everything tastes slightly like ash on his tongue.

“I’m tired.” He replies and he’s not lying, he’s tired of not being tired, he’s so fucking done with the boundless energy in his body that isn’t his. He’s been exhausted since he’s turned seventeen and now, there is something inside his body, something that doesn’t belong and that is making him feel lively and elated when he really has _nothing_ to feel joyful about.

“Alright, princess, we’ll stop for the night.” And Dean is so fucking gentle when he presses a hand to the end of his back, when he lets his fingers trace the shape of Sam’s column. Sam hates him so much, it tastes like love when he kisses him.

Dean rents a room with a king bed and Sam knows before they even close the door that they’re fucking tonight. They haven’t had sex in months, if they don’t count pitiful handjobs exchanged in the shower when Sam had been too weak to wash himself while doing the trials. Usually, he’d be patient, because Dean likes when they take their time, Dean likes to stretch foreplay for hours and make it tender, he likes to moan love confessions in Sam’s ear while they’re locked together, when they’re sharing breath and body heat. Sam loves it, he does, he never thought sex could be like this before, he always saw it as a fight to win when he was younger, even with Jess, because she liked to get rough and she liked to make him beg and to let him spin her around. With Dean, it has always been different, Dean makes him beg too but he makes it sweet, he makes him cry but the tears on his cheeks always feel like salvation. 

Tonight, it isn’t like this. 

Dean tries to kiss and lick, he tries to make Sam whimper with pleasure and love, but it all turns to groans and roars. Dean’s nails dig in the flesh of Sam’s thigh, leaving red and bloody crescent moons in his wake, Sam says his name and it’s an accusation.

“Fuck me,” He orders, Dean’s head is buried in his neck, Sam can taste his sweat on his lips, he licks the salt and wants to tear his brother’s hair out of his scalp. “Fuck me harder, make me feel it.”

“Jesus Christ, Sammy,” And he obeys, because Sam could make Dean do anything, he could always hold him in the palm of his hand and crush him, but he could never make him say the truth. “I love you, baby, _I love you_.”

“Shut up,” Dean is trembling and Sam knows that he’s close, he can feel how Dean shakes and throbs inside of him, he wants to be fucked raw, he wants to splinter on Dean’s cock and never get back in one piece. He wants to be dead, he’s asked for it and Dean said _no_ , Dean said _not yet_ and now Sam wants his brother, his lover, his _everything_ to kill him.

He comes with a cry, the sobs wrecking him inside and making Dean shush him and brush his wet hair back. His brother tells him everything is going to be okay, that Sam will be back to his full strength in no time and that he loves him, he does, he’s so in love. And Sam cries, he doesn’t stop, he lets himself be comforted and he lets Dean rock him to sleep. He’ll wake up waiting but right now, he just wants to stay in Dean’s arms and forget that these hands have betrayed him. Again.

The angel in him purrs in contentment.

**Author's Note:**

> comments are much appreciated!


End file.
